All the Secrets I Don't Have
by dreamingofanOTP
Summary: John is mad at Sherlock for ignoring him all the time. Sherlock is keeping his feelings hidden from John and dosent know how to tell him. Rated T for some slightly sexual situations, language, violence, and boy-on-boy/girl-on-girl kissing.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: So this is going to be my first actual full length fic. It was actually inspired by my dear friend from tumblr (here's a link for her blog: ) . Basically it's about how John is upset and Mycroft goes over to him but Sherlock chases Mycroft away. Anyways, this fic has m/m kissing as well as f/f kissing. With a bit of talk about sex. If you don't like that you can leave.

I don't own Sherlock BBC or any of it's characters.

**Pairings:** John W/Sherlock H, Greg L/Mycroft H, Harry W/Clara, Mrs. Hudson/OC

* * *

John was sulking. John didn't sulk very often, only when Sherlock was ignoring him. John sometimes liked to think that he was always on Sherlock's mind. not that John was gay, he just liked being Sherlock's priority. But at the moment John didn't think he was very important right now. Or maybe that Sherlock didn't want him anymore. Whatever it was, it was making his head hurt thinking about it, and he needed a cup of tea.

"Sherlock, do you want some tea?" he called. Hearing no response he proceeded to make enough tea for two anyways. Wandering into the living room he put the tea in front of Sherlock, who promptly stood up and stormed out of the flat. Frowning, John sat down, the hurt clearly showing on his face.

"Oh dear, what's the matter between you and Sherlock? I heard him leaving." Mrs. Hudson said, sticking her head into the flat. John didn't respond and something dawned on Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh my, has Sherlock told you?" she exclaimed. John's eyes flashed with anger.

"Sherlock hasn't been talking to me." John snapped, turning away.

"Oh, i'm sorry dear. But don't worry, he'll come around" she replied with a bit of disappointment. But John's mind had already returned to Sherlock and he had stopped listening.

o~O~o

Sherlock sat in his chair, a frown on his face. All he could think about was John. Not that he really ever thought about anything else. Sherlock had feelings for John, but how to express feelings was one of the things that he couldn't do. Being around John all day every day was driving Sherlock mad. He couldn't talk to John about anything, fearing that he might slip up and ruin his one moment to tell John how he felt. He heard John calling to see if he wanted any tea. Sherlock ignored him and continued running through different scenarios of him and John. Sherlock watched as John came in and plunked a cup of tea in front of him. Not being able to control himself, Sherlock got up grabbing his coat and flew out the door to see if he could get some help in figuring everything out. Pulling out his phone, he dialed his brother's number to let him know he needed to talk. Seconds later a sleek black car pulled up and the door opened. Sherlock climbed in and nodded to Anthea who nodded in return. The ride was silent with no other interactions between them until they reached their destination. Exchanging a second nod, Sherlock whisked himself out of the car and into the building. Sherlock wished that he didn't have to go to his brother for advice. He burst into the office and his brother gave him a glare.

"What do you want now, Sherlock? I have plans with Mummy and I mustn't keep her waiting," Mycroft drawled.

"How did you tell Lestrade you had feelings for him?" Sherlock asked without hesitation. Mycroft pursed his lips and glared.

"I don't think that's any of your business. Now if you would excuse me, I have to go," Mycroft stood up "I'll tell her you said hello."

"Fine! I'll just go ask Lestrade what you did," Sherlock sneered.

"Goodbye brother," Mycroft waved as he exited. With a sigh, Sherlock found his way outside to ask Lestrade everything.

Sherlock stormed into the Scotland Yard and into Detective Inspector Lestrade's office. Lestrade looked up from the paperwork on his desk.

"So how did my brother manage to woo you?" Sherlock said, pulling out his phone to check something.

"Sherlock, what the hell? How did you know? Who told you? Does anyone else know?" Lestrade spit out.

"It's totally obvious, no one told me, and no one else knows," Sherlock rolled his eyes "Now how did he do it? I'd like to know."

"Uh, he took me out to dinner and then we did- er, other stuff. Wait, why do want to know?" Lestrade's face was a picture of confusion.

"So you ate and had sex. I didn't realize it was that simple." Sherlock turned and opened the door, "And it's John. That's why."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Okay, so here is the second chapter! The Sherlock half is a bit short, it's just that I didn't have much inspiration. Either way, I hope you like it!

I don't own Sherlock etc, etc.

* * *

After an hour or so of sipping tea, and updating his blog, and pondering the meaning of life John finally got up. He grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the flat.

"A bit of a drink might do me some good" he mused "maybe i might even pick someone up." He hailed a cab and told the cabbie to take him to the nearest pub. John glanced at the cabbie's licence to see what they looked like. After Sherlock had almost taken the pill that could have ended his life, John was terrified that it might happen to one of them again. Suddenly, the vehicle jerked to a stop shattering the memory. Thanking the man, he paid and strode into the pub scanning around to see if there was anyone who he could buy a drink. Seeing there was no one he noticed Lestrade sitting at the bar by himself.

"Greg!" he called and the other man looked up. The DI grinned and waved him over.

"Can I buy you a drink?" asked Lestrade.

"Sure. Came here to pick up girls, didn't know I was going to be picked up myself!" John laughed at his own joked but seeing the detective inspector's face he stopped short. Lestrade had a strange pinched look on his face.

"Uh, Greg? I was joking. I'm not gay," he clarified. The taller man's face relaxed a bit and he choked out a laugh.

"Sorry, I uh- just um," he spluttered "You know what? How have you been lately John? Has Sherlock said anything erm- big?" John gave him a look.

"Sherlock and I- well, we haven't been talking very much lately. He's been avoiding me." John was starting to rant and he couldn't stop himself, "Every time i try to talk to him he ignores me! Then, I try to interact with him but he just gets up and leaves! And I don't mean the room, noooo! Not for Sherlock! he has to leave the whole flat! And he doesn't tell me where he goes! He could at least text me! I mean, what? is he seeing someone? Because that would be good for him. If it's a man, I don't care about that! Does he think I'm jealous? Because I'M NOT GAY." Everyone in the pub was staring at him. Lestrade's face was a bright shade of red and he let out a small cough.

"John, I uh- have to go. Big case and such," Lestrade paid the bartender and rushed out mumbling something about how he was going crazy John looked around at the people staring at him. He turned around and sat back down at the bar to order another drink. But before he could, Sherlock blew in like a storm cloud.

"John," he growled "We need to go." And with that, John was being dragged out into the Street while Sherlock hailed a cab. As one pulled up, he didn't wait for it to stop as he yanked open the door and threw John inside.

"Sherlock, what the HELL are you doing?" John jerked his arm away, "You've been avoiding me and today you decide to drag my into the street? Where are we even going? Sherlock? Are you even LISTENING?"

"Shut up John, can't you see I'm thinking?" snapped Sherlock as he shot a death glare. John shut his mouth, his face growing hot. There was a line and Sherlock had just crossed it. If Sherlock Though that John was just a nuisance he would leave. A nice vacation would do the trick. Plus, Harry would be glad to see him. The cab lurched to a stop with Sherlock leaping out. John leaned over and slammed the door shut while telling the cabbie the address. When he glanced out the back window Sherlock was still standing there until the cab rounded the corner cutting off his view. John leaned back in his seat and allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.

o~O~o

Sherlock squinted in the bright sunlight. He had checked most of the pubs around Baker Street but there was still no sign of John. With a sigh, he continued down the road, glancing in the windows of the shops and restaurants. He needed to find a suitable place to take John if he was to tell him how he felt. Nothing could go wrong at all. With a huff, he spotted a pub across the street and pushed the door open. No John. Grumbling something incoherent he pulled himself outside and strode down the street. Another pub was just up ahead. If he had to go into one more pub without finding John, he was going to be very mad. With a dark look he yanked open the door and saw John sitting at the bar.

"John, we need to go," Sherlock grabbed John's wrist and pulled him out of the pub and into the street. Gripping the smaller man tight he hailed a cab and tossed John inside.

"Sherlock, what the HELL are you doing?" John pulled away from Sherlock roughly, "You've been avoiding me and today you decide to drag my into the street? Where are we even going? Sherlock? Are you even LISTENING?"

"Shut up John, can't you see I'm thinking?" he glared. John wasn't about to ruin the moment where Sherlock asked him out to dinner. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice that John was now looking extremely displeased. Running through the possibilities of what to say he blocked out all sounds. When the cab finally stopped Sherlock got out, expecting John to follow. But the door slammed in his face and the vehicle sped off. Sherlock watched as it rounded the corner, his mouth turned down in a dark frown. He couldn't understand what had just happened or why John had left him behind like that. The pang in his chest hurt with each step he took to get to the door of 221 Baker Street.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Okay, here's the update everybody! I'm so sorry that I havent updated sooner, I've been busy writing a speech for one of my classes... Here ya go! I hope you like it and please dont forget to review it! (Warning: This chapter has an offensive term for gays. Please realize that I don't actually use this word in real life, it's creative licence. If you might get easily offended please don't read this chapter. Thanks!)

All everything belongs to BBC and blah blah blah.

* * *

A couple of wrong turns later, they stopped at a little cottage near the outskirts of town. Tossing the money at the cabbie he got out and looked around. It was so much greener than the city. Suddenly, a figure burst through the door.

"John!" cried Harry "Come inside, Clara wants to see you!"

"Clara?" John puzzled "But I thought you two broke up because of your problem with alcohol?"

"Well, she's been helping me stop," the older sibling explained, leading John inside, "And I've gotten much better. Clara! Johns here!" Clara popped her head into the entryway.

"Harry and I were going to visit the cemetery today, did you want to join us?" she asked.

"Oh please!" begged Harry, "Clara's so adventurous and I don't want her to leave me behind!"

"No one could leave someone as lovely as you," Clara said, giving the other girl a kiss. "Now get your coat, it's windy out!" Harry laughed as she grabbed her coat and let her partner lead her out the door. When the door shut, John realized that he was in fact very lonely. It was obvious his sister really cared about Clara, and Clara felt the same. John had never been in a serious relationship and didn't think he had ever had that level of compassion for someone. The thought was a pang in his chest. Suddenly he wished he was back at the flat with Sherlock, helping him solve a case or sharing takeout food while watching doctor who. Putting his coat on the rack by the door he wandered into the living room and grabbed the remote so he could rest and watch some telly.

o~O~o

Sherlock was curled up in his bed with a large fluffy comforter pulled around him like a nest. He heard his door creak open and there was a click as the light was flicked on. With a loud moan, he rolled over pulling the blanket over his head.

"Sherlock, you have to get up!" John said. Blinking, Sherlock rubbed his eyes and sat up. John was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Sherlock glanced at the clock next to the bed. The time read 3:00 am. Looking back over to John, Sherlock gave him an uneasy look. With a roll of his eyes, John walked over to the window and yanked open the curtains, flooding the room with a grey light. Another look at the clock told Sherlock that it was now 5:47 pm. Yanking the blankets away and standing up, Sherlock grabbed John's wrist. The watch read 5:47. An ill grin spread across John's face making Sherlock drop his wrist as if it burned him.

"John, what's going on?" Sherlock asked, backing up toward the door.

"Don't worry, nothing's going to happen," John replied with the same smile. Sherlock shook his head and continued his path to the door. Stepping forward, John pulled a gun from behind his back and aimed it between Sherlock's eyes.

"John, where did you get that?" Sherlock's stomach was beginning to churn. The small man holding the gun let out a chuckle.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." A flash of light and a bullet was lodged into the doorframe beside Sherlock's head. A yelp and he turned to run but he was somehow stuck.

"I know your secret." John walked calmly to where Sherlock was standing. "And you disgust me. You sick fuck. I thought that you were my friend. You're just a queer pervert aren't you. You make me want to die. But I don't think that would help any of us so I think I'm just going to get rid of you instead." There was nothing but pure terror in Sherlock's eyes and he tried to move again.

"Uh uh, you aren't going anywhere." The man that looked like John pushed the barrel of the gun against Sherlock's stomach.

"I think that you should go out in pain. No one in this world should have to live like I do, with some disgusting man who just wants to touch himself over men. That kind of thing is never okay here." A searing pain ripped through Sherlock's body as a hole was made in his shoulder. The warm sticky blood dripped down his clothes and onto the floor. The wound was large and gaping with a nasty red mess surrounding it. There was a ringing in Sherlock's head and he dropped to the ground on his knees. A sharp laugh came from his captor who slowly pressed the wepon against his forehead.

"John," Sherlock whispered. The crack echoed throughout the flat and everything went totally black. Heavy breathing filled the dark room and the red numbers blinked 5:47 pm. Sherlock reached over and turned the lamp on. Rubbing his hands on his face he stood up. It had all just been a dream. John was gone. He was all alone. His shoulder ached from the thought of being shot. With a sigh, Sherlock stood up and wandered into the living room. It had all been a dream. John would never do that to him. But there was still an uneasy feeling in his gut he couldn't get rid of. Flopping down on his chair, he grabbed John's laptop and typed in the password with quick fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry I'm so late getting this chapter up! There's just been a lot going on for me and I was having a lack of inspiration and everything was screwy... But here it is! There's no Sherlock in this chapter, it's John. I hope you guys dont mind... But I'll put a lot of Sherlock in the next chapter, I promise! Thanks so much for being patient for the update, I'll try to get better at posting stuff! (**Warning(?)!** They kind of talk about sex a bit so if you dont like that I dont know what you're doing in this fic because as it goes along it progressively gets more sexual. Just an fyi.)

I dont own BBC Sherlock blahblahblah screw you Moffat.

* * *

The door slammed open, letting in a rush of cold air and two happy girls that tumbled into the living room laughing.

"Whattimeizzit," mumbled John, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"We left about two hours ago," Harry replied flopping down next to her younger brother.

"I'm going to just pull some leftovers out of the fridge, so we can watch some Doctor Who," Clara yelled from the kitchen. They heard a few loud crashes and some swearing before Clara appeared holding tuna salad sandwiches and a bag of crisps. Thanking her, John took the plate and turned back to the television. The Doctor Who theme started playing making Harry and Clara sing along loudly.

"Mmm, that Doctor is pretty handsome," Clara noted turning to Harry she asked "Wouldn't it be so amazing if we could join the doctor, traveling among the stars? and that blue box. I love it! So much smaller on the inside." The wonder was shining in her eyes and Harry nodded and beamed at her, leaning over to give her a kiss. John watched as Clara climbed into his sister's lap as they continued to kiss. Clearing his throat loudly, he stood up making the couple look over.

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight," he announced awkwardly.

"Be sure you don't need to come back out here, because who knows what you'll find!" Clara responded with a glint in her eyes.

"I don't think I want to know what that means," John replied.

"That's right John, we're going to have SEX!" yelled Harry. She yelped as Clara pounced on her. There was a thump as they fell off the couch and John decided he should get to bed as quickly as he could. He found the guest bedroom quickly enough. What John had not realized though was how tired he was. The second his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep.

o~O~o

That night John was plagued with nightmares. Hundreds of scenarios of him or Sherlock getting hurt ran through his mind, each one rowing worse. And every time he woke up yelling and drenched with sweat, the blankets flung about. At around three in the morning his door opened and his sister crept into the room.

"John?" she whispered, "Are you okay?" John shook his head and Harry climbed up onto the bed next to him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"  
John didn't know how to tell his sister let alone explain it to himself. But he knew that she'd be able to help him figure it out.

"It's Sherlock," he said and she nodded encouragement. "You see, he's my best friend. I've never had someone like him. But on Monday he just stopped talking to me. It really confused me so I decided to go to the pub for a drink. But then he came and tried to take me home. But I just couldnt, right? Because he just hurt me and then he thinks that I'm just going to forgive him. He doesn't have normal emotions like everyone else, and he doesn't realize when my feelings get hurt."

"When your feelings get hurt?" Harry repeated.

"Shut up, you know what I mean!" He shoved his sister. "But really, what's going on?"

"I think that you like Sherlock more than you care to admit to yourself. You think that if you recognize that you care about him, he's not going to feel the same way about you."

"But I'm not-" John started.

"Let me tell you about Clara," She interjected, "I used to be her best friend. She knew I liked her, and I knew that she didn't feel the same way. We were close friends for the longest time and during that time she had many boyfriends. None of her relationships mattered to her except one. His name was Christopher, and she loved him more than anything, he was her whole world. She was always with him, and when she wasn't with him, she was talking about him. One day she decided to surprise him and fly out to see him in the states where he was on a business trip. She got there and he was with someone else. But what she saw him doing with the other girl was what hurt her even more. She had to watch as Christopher got down on one knee and asked the american girl to marry him. She took the first flight back home, and when she got here, she came straight to me. I held her for hours as she cried. I could stand seeing her so upset, so I leaned in and kissed her. The second I did that, I regretted it immediately. But when she whispered thank you and kissed me back I knew that she loved me too. Her feelings had just been hidden the whole time because she didn't trust herself. Only when I kissed her, she realized how she felt deep down inside." Harry finished her story with a solemn look.

"Thank you," John said, hugging his sister, "but I don't like Sherlock in that way." Harry stood up and nodded.

"Whatever you say. But try and get some sleep now, okay?"

"Yup." John curled up under the blankets as Harry shut the door. With a sigh, he tried to picture Sherlock. He wished he was back in the flat, Sherlock sleeping in the next room over.

"Goodnight Sherlock," he whispered to himself as he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber.


End file.
